


Gentle Giant

by That_One_Raven



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26358280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Raven/pseuds/That_One_Raven
Summary: Chris finds Miles having a panic attack and comforts him.
Relationships: Miles Upshur/Chris Walker
Kudos: 52





	Gentle Giant

**Author's Note:**

> From my tumblr, thatoneraven.

Miles couldn’t breathe. His throat closed up, barely allowing the heaving sobs to choke their way out. Clawing at his neck, he started trembling uncontrollably. All he could focus on was the all consuming fear and pain worming its way through his body. He grew dizzy as he began uncontrollably scratching at his arm, trying to get out of his suddenly claustrophobic skin. The ringing in his ears grew unbearable, screaming like the variants who had haunted his day. From where he was wedged into the corner, he couldn’t see the massive feet rounding the corner. They thudded against the floor, but to Miles, the thudding was just the vicious beating of his own heart. He couldn’t hear the growling breaths over the sounds of his own terror. Chris grunted and shoved aside the locker Miles was hiding behind, seeking the source of the noises. Miles looked up, barely able to make out who was in front of him due to how blurry his tears made his vision. He squeezed his camera harder, backing up further into the corner and starting to rock as his arm began to bleed. Chris growled and reached out for him, only pausing when he noticed how the young man looked. He looked pure, untouched by the cruelty of the asylum. He had no scars, actual clothes, and an expensive looking camera; the only sign of being tainted by the asylum being the blood coating him. Chris retracted his hand, unabashedly staring. Miles whimpered and tucked further in on himself, too scared to do much else. Chris took notice of the endless wave of tears, the uncontrollable trembling, the rocking, and oh- he especially took notice of the scratching. His heart fluttered and he felt a lump arise in his throat. The newcomer was having a panic attack. Chris immediately kneeled down and pried Miles’ hand from his arm. Miles wailed, attempting to escape the giant, gentle hand. “Little pig… Listen. Breathe. You’re safe with me.” Miles continued to thrash around, growing increasingly agitated. Gently, Chris pulled him into his chest and held him tight against his body, rocking him back and forth. “Shh, shh. You’re okay.” Miles began crying louder, curling into the warmth of Chris’s body. Chris tried to ignore the wet tears against his skin, favoring instead to softly tell the man about dreams of farms and animals. He ran his large hand over his back, talking of days away from the asylum in a safe place. Listening to the soothing rumble of the strange man, Miles began to calm down, the lump in his throat easing enough to allow him a couple deep breaths. Sighing, Chris gave him a little squeeze. “Yes, there you go. Just like that.” He rested his chin on top of Miles’ head, humming as he rocked him and rubbed his back. The tears had stopped, but Miles was still hiccuping and letting out an occasional sob, exhausted body still shaking. “Wh- who are y- you?” Chris continued to soothe him as he leaned back to look at him. “Chris. Chris Walker.” Miles looked up at him with wide eyes, clear vision now allowing him to see his missing nose and exposed teeth. There was no way he wasn’t from the asylum. “You’re from the asylum! B-b- but you’re not- You’re not t- trying to kill me like the rest?” He shied away, hands immediately retracting from Chris’s chest. “You’re pure, unlike the rest. I won’t kill you.” Miles stared skeptically into Chris’s milky eyes, looking for any sign of insanity. All he could find was a deep tiredness and sorrow. “I’m not lying, little pig. I wouldn’t harm someone having a panic attack. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like.” Miles simply nodded, leaning into Chris’s chest and letting out a deep breath. “Thank you.” Humming in response, Chris hugged him close and let him sit like that for a little longer. “You should really get out of here. I can protect you on the way out.” Miles shook his head, looking up at Chris with furrowed brows. “I have to keep going. I’m here to expose Murkoff for what they’ve done. I can’t quit after everything I’ve seen.” Chris raised his brows, fingers curling in his shirt. That explains the camera. “Then I guess I can protect you on your job. Those sick fucks need to be brought to justice.” Nodding, Miles stood up, Chris following him. Checking his camera for damage, Miles rolled his shoulders and looked up at Chris. “Thank you again Chris. I really appreciate it.” Grunting, Chris nodded at Miles and offered him his hand. Miles slipped his small hand into Chris’s, giving him a brief grin before stepping out of the room with renewed determination.


End file.
